sabato 27 ottobre 2012
lunedì 15 ottobre 2012
lunedì 8 ottobre 2012
Bad writing from the last issue of the American version of La Cuciana Italiana that we are going to pay for (for a while at least)
The first five sentences from "the lighter side of red" by Anthony Giglio are so bad that I want to memorize them so that I can recite them at dinner parties and at bus stops.
"I'll never forget the first time I tried a rosé wine that wasn't overtly sweet and one-dimensional. I was at a bar in Nice, France, dining al fresco, facing the see, and the beautiful jeune fille taking our order suggested we try one. My buddies and I (we were in college at the time) reacted like most guys do when offered pink wine when not with their girlfriends: "Non, merci." But she was beautiful and persuasive, and we were thirsty and interested, so we let her pour us glasses of the salmon-colored wine, and then toasted her excellent recommendation."
I can't keep from obsessively reading this passage, laughing all the while. To me, it's a mix of impossible things that just make the whole scene absurd. True, I never traveled with college buddies to Europe. After college, I moved in with my boyfriend in Iowa City and worked on an herb farm that first summer. But from what I gather from my high school friends who did do the whole Euro-pass summer thing, there wasn't much dining al fresco facing the sea, being served wine by a beautiful "jeune fille". I heard it was more like nutella and baguettes, sitting on a sea wall...wondering how long you really can go before those pants absolutely must be washed.
But now I'm curious what year it was that this wine pro and his buddies, (they were in college at the time) "reacted like most guys do when offered pink wine when not with their girlfriends." And what college DID they hail from? What college so beautifully prepared them to deflect pink wine offers when in the presence of other straight dudes? In what college was that a frequent topic of conversation? In what college did they learn precisely when to abandon their fear of a sausage party with pink wine because the person doing the offering is so hot that it's worth the risk of looking like a group of queers? That's one fine college.
The funny thing is that the author is on Facebook...and so all I need to do is "Like" him, so I can start getting some answers...
If you're really were "at a bar in Nice, dining al fresco, facing the sea" then why not play up the fact that you were embodying the spirit of metro-sexuality before being, or not being, metro-sexual was even a thing? Why not bask in your near-native instinct to publicly deflect offers for back waxing and eyebrow shaping well before such services were routinely marketed to you and your straight college buddies who once dined "al fresco, facing the sea"? Men who only drank pink wine in the presence of other men, without their girlfriends, when dreaming of jerking off to the question of whether French women really did invent French kissing.
"I'll never forget the first time I tried a rosé wine that wasn't overtly sweet and one-dimensional. I was at a bar in Nice, France, dining al fresco, facing the see, and the beautiful jeune fille taking our order suggested we try one. My buddies and I (we were in college at the time) reacted like most guys do when offered pink wine when not with their girlfriends: "Non, merci." But she was beautiful and persuasive, and we were thirsty and interested, so we let her pour us glasses of the salmon-colored wine, and then toasted her excellent recommendation."
I can't keep from obsessively reading this passage, laughing all the while. To me, it's a mix of impossible things that just make the whole scene absurd. True, I never traveled with college buddies to Europe. After college, I moved in with my boyfriend in Iowa City and worked on an herb farm that first summer. But from what I gather from my high school friends who did do the whole Euro-pass summer thing, there wasn't much dining al fresco facing the sea, being served wine by a beautiful "jeune fille". I heard it was more like nutella and baguettes, sitting on a sea wall...wondering how long you really can go before those pants absolutely must be washed.
But now I'm curious what year it was that this wine pro and his buddies, (they were in college at the time) "reacted like most guys do when offered pink wine when not with their girlfriends." And what college DID they hail from? What college so beautifully prepared them to deflect pink wine offers when in the presence of other straight dudes? In what college was that a frequent topic of conversation? In what college did they learn precisely when to abandon their fear of a sausage party with pink wine because the person doing the offering is so hot that it's worth the risk of looking like a group of queers? That's one fine college.
The funny thing is that the author is on Facebook...and so all I need to do is "Like" him, so I can start getting some answers...
If you're really were "at a bar in Nice, dining al fresco, facing the sea" then why not play up the fact that you were embodying the spirit of metro-sexuality before being, or not being, metro-sexual was even a thing? Why not bask in your near-native instinct to publicly deflect offers for back waxing and eyebrow shaping well before such services were routinely marketed to you and your straight college buddies who once dined "al fresco, facing the sea"? Men who only drank pink wine in the presence of other men, without their girlfriends, when dreaming of jerking off to the question of whether French women really did invent French kissing.
sabato 6 ottobre 2012
venerdì 5 ottobre 2012
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